


inviolable

by noobishere



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Non-Linear Chronology, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 19:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5796496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noobishere/pseuds/noobishere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Usually, at this time of the day, he’d be the one skipping up those stairs and calling out to his friend to go explore some other part of the town. But today, he’s sitting alone on the steps, bored.</p><p>It’s been five days since he last saw Makoto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	inviolable

**Author's Note:**

> really pointless mundane mh stuff. so if you're not into that, then i'm sorry for having wasted your time. 
> 
> title is from [here](https://twitter.com/choko_donatsu/status/685420605848469504)

  


  


Haru swirls the dandelion in between his fingers, watching it absently as he sits halfway down the shrine steps. He can feel sweat trickling down his back and how his t-shirt is sticking uncomfortably to his skin.

He catches movement at the corner of his eye. There’s that calico cat who likes to hang around at his and Mrs Tamura’s house, climbing further up the stairs leading to the Tachibana’s to lounge in the shades.

Usually, at this time of the day, he’d be the one skipping up those stairs and calling out to his friend to go explore some other part of the town. But today, he’s sitting alone on the steps, bored.

It’s been five days since he last saw Makoto.

Makoto, who is away with his family, spending the summer holidays away from home. It’s the last summer before his mother is due to give birth in a few months, his last summer as the only Tachibana child.

A warm breeze ruffles his hair and Haru watches as the lone dandelion in his hand sways gently with it, the last seed head clinging dearly onto its bud. Just then, he hears chattering and footsteps. He looks up to the loud, excited gasp. And then a delighted “Haru-chan!”

There, at the bottom of the stairs, just turned into the bend is Makoto and his parents. Makoto has each of his hand in his parents’, before he tugs them hastily and dashes through the narrow alley and up the stairs.

Haru stands up, silently waiting for his friend to reach him, dandelion forgotten. He allows a small smile in response to the wide grin on Makoto’s face. 

It has been a long five days since they last saw each other.

  


*

  


As much as he enjoys seeing Makoto squirm and fluster, Haru doesn’t tease him as much as he should, unlike Makoto. Makoto is quite the little shit.

Haru’s poring over a particularly difficult question when he hears the clicks of a shutter. He looks up at Makoto questioningly, only to be greeted by another click and a giggle.

Haru glares at Makoto, who is poised with his camera phone aimed at him.

“Makoto,” he admonishes.

Another giggle before Makoto starts snapping more pictures of his frowning face.

Contrary to popular belief, there are hundreds of candid photos of him in Makoto’s phone – mostly of him frowning. Makoto thinks he’s being funny when he sneakily takes photos of him. Haru thinks he’s just being annoying.

“Are you done?” 

Makoto is still giggling, scrolling through his gallery. “This is my favourite,” he says, holding out his phone so that Haru can see which picture he’s talking about.

At first glance, it just seems like his every day blank expression, but the more he looks at it, the more the slight pout he was wearing becomes notable. Haru makes a move to grab the phone to delete it, but Makoto is faster and knows him too well to anticipate his reaction, pulling the phone out of his grasp. 

Makoto is openly laughing at him now.

Haru huffs and goes back to his homework, ignoring Makoto’s coos.

  


*

  


The bath water has gone cold, Haru notes. He can’t really tell the time from where he is but it’s probably time to get out and get ready for class; his fingers have pruned pretty badly. But Makoto isn’t around to fuss over him so he stays put and basks in the morning lull.

He gets out, eventually, and starts grabbing clothes to put on. Pattering over to his meagre kitchen space, Haru pulls out his grill pan and heats it up for some mackerel grilling. A glance to the clock tells him he’s going to be late and he can’t actually afford to waste time with breakfast, but then again, he’s had to skip it in favour of more bath time yesterday, so he ignores the time and resumes his cooking.

There’s an itch that he can’t relieve somewhere along his right arm, and he wonders if it has anything to do with the glaring silence. It’s not the first time Makoto couldn’t make it in time to drag him out of his apartment in the mornings, it’s actually depleting in frequency since they moved to Tokyo, but it’s still a bit jarring not having him around to fill the space between them with mindless chatter and nagging.

As he’s about to lock up and leave for the day, his phone rings, displaying Makoto’s ID.

“Morning, Haru,” Makoto chirps.

Unbidden, his lips stretch into a small smile. Warmth spreading from his chest to his entire body.

“Morning,” he parrots back, evidently less chipper but just as happy.

Makoto starts chattering about his morning, admonishing Haru when he admits that he’s late for class, and Haru just hums along, feeling at ease as Makoto’s voice envelops him in familiarity and comfort. 

  


*

  


“Why’d you quit swim club?” Haru says in lieu of greeting.

To be honest, he feels like a hypocrite, especially since the same thing happened a few days ago, just with their roles reversed, and Haru hadn’t even bothered to answer.

He didn’t know how to. He still doesn’t.

Makoto’s mouth hangs open in an aborted hello, before he shuts it and glances to the side. He rubs the back of his neck as he tries to come up with an answer.

But Haru already knows his answer.

It’s the same reason Haru had joined Iwatobi SC; the same reason he’d considered joining basketball; the same reason he ended up joining the school’s swimming club instead.

Makoto smiles helplessly at him.

“Idiot,” he says.

They both are, he thinks.

  


*

  


The days when they have to part to go to their respective classes seem so far behind, when in actuality, it has only been a few weeks. He can hardly believe that they’re going to be high schoolers starting tomorrow, and here they are, lounging in his room, both trying to figure out how to tie a tie.

Well, mostly it’s just Makoto trying to figure it out while Haru had given up the moment he found out they had to wear one to school, munching on some fish crackers, finding Makoto flailing over his tie oddly entertaining. He’s making confused noises as he loops the cloth this way and that.

“There!” Makoto gives a triumphant cry, looking pleased with himself as he brandishes the tie to him.

Haru drapes his own tie over his neck and gives Makoto an expectant look.

Makoto sighs, shaking his head, but there’s a fond smile on his face. “Haru, you need to do it yourself.” 

Haru tilts his chin pointedly in reply, fully expecting Makoto to do it for him. Makoto gives him a chiding look before sighing again, shuffling closer. “You’re way too spoiled, Haru-chan.”

 _You’re the only one who spoils me_ , Haru wants to say. 

Makoto laughs, and Haru realises that his face is saying exactly what he’s thinking. He feels his face heat up and quickly glances to the side.

“Stay still,” Makoto mumbles. His fingers are surer, now that he knows what he’s doing, and he finishes the knot fairly quickly. He runs his hand down along the tie when he’s done, smiling. “Done.”

Haru inspects his tie and fiddles with it. He tries not to think about tomorrow, all the worries that comes with the thought that they might not be in the same class; he doesn’t want a repeat of junior high. He glances over at Makoto only to find him still looking at him. 

“I hope we’re in the same class,” Makoto says. 

Again with his immaculate mind reading. Sometimes Haru thinks Makoto isn’t even aware of it. Or maybe he just shares the same worries and has no trouble voicing them.

Haru nods mutely, scooting closer to press his side against Makoto’s. It’ll be fine. Even if they don’t end up in the same class, they’ll be fine. 

“You’re right,” Makoto laughs softly. He shifts so that they’re pressed up more comfortably against each other and smiles at him. Haru can’t help but smile back.

  


*

  


“Ah, a bit to the right, Haru-chan.”

Haru peels back the moon he’d just stuck onto Makoto’s ceiling. His neck is starting to hurt from craning it for so long. “Here?”

“Yep!”

He inspects his handiwork and nods in approval. Looking down at Makoto, Haru thinks he approves too. So he carefully steps down from the chair and onto Makoto’s bed, wobbling a bit as his legs try to get used to the sudden change in height.

The ceiling above Makoto’s bed is now the miniature of a night sky. Haru is pleased with himself.

Makoto’s parents bought glow in the darks adhesives for him, in the shapes of stars and various stages of the moon. Although Makoto says that it’s fun and it’ll be pretty, Haru knows it’s because he’s afraid of the dark and doesn’t want to use a night light because he’s embarrassed. Just like how Haru knows he’d be the one doing all the work because Makoto is also scared of heights.

Honestly, he’s a little offended that Makoto thinks he can trick him like that, but he wisely chooses not to say anything and indulge him.

Makoto puts the chair back under his desk and lies down on his bed. He pats the space beside him with a huge smile on his face. Haru complies.

They lie side by side, admiring the stars that litter the ceiling.

“Thanks, Haru-chan,” Makoto says, his voice quiet. 

Haru glances over at Makoto. There’s that same smile still, but it’s slightly subdued. He thinks he knows why but pretends he doesn’t, turning his gaze back to the mini galaxy.

“It’s no problem.”

  


*

  


This year he’s spending the winter break with the Tachibanas. 

Makoto refused to let him be when he found out mum and dad had cancelled their visit. They said it’s because of the oncoming snowstorm. Haru doesn’t quite know what to believe.

Now he finds himself in the Tachibana’s back porch, watching the twins argue over what shape their snowman should be. Makoto’s mum comes over and says they can both make their own, to which the twins cheer happily.

Haru pats mindlessly at his lump while Makoto shovels up more snow with his gloved hands and dumps them on the shapeless lump. “I don’t even know what we’re making,” Haru grumbles. He doesn’t see the point of Makoto helping him either.

Makoto just smiles at him as he pats the lump with more snow. 

“It doesn’t have to be anything.”

Haru doesn’t reply and they both work on their shapeless lump silently. He’s lost in his own thoughts when Makoto says quietly, just for him to hear, “I’m sure your parents feel really bad for not making it.”

His hands freeze. He blinks rapidly, fighting back the sudden oncoming tears.

It’s not like he cries easily, it’s just that Makoto has this way of knowing exactly what he’s feeling when he himself is still struggling to make sense of anything. It’s pretty overwhelming sometimes.

Makoto hadn’t said anything when he nonchalantly relayed the news to him. He didn’t fill the consecutive silence with his mindless chatter as usual; he let him be for the night, stewing in his own thoughts before he comes knocking on the door the next day and invites him over.

Looking at the lump of snow in front of him, Haru realises that he’s been feeling a bit lonely the moment he got the call from his mother. That night, he had sat in front of the fridge and stared at all the food he’d stocked up, not sure what to do with them. Today at lunch, he caught himself staring at the Tachibanas, suddenly aware of how good they look together, and felt a sharp tug in his chest.

He stares at his hands, unsure of what do with them. Makoto grabs onto them and squeezes.

“You should call them tonight.”

Haru nods, not trusting his voice, and squeezes back.

Makoto just smiles at him, not letting go.

  


*

  


Haru’s already waiting at the top of the stairs when he sees Makoto hastily going down the stairs from his house, the loud clacking of his sandals echoing his excitement.

Makoto is clad in his dark green yukata, Haru in his grey ones and a pair of flip-flops. He hadn’t felt compelled to protest when Makoto had insisted they wear yukata. 

Makoto comes to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and stares up at him. He tilts his head and smiles warmly. “Haru-chan,” he greets.

Haru scowls before stomping his way down. “Stop calling me –chan.”

Makoto rubs the back of his neck sheepishly; he still hasn’t outgrown the childish nickname even though he’s already towering over him with a good three inch.

They set off towards the pier, where the festival is, and Makoto starts filling their walk with his usual chatter. Haru doesn’t have a chance to tune him out because Makoto starts off with a, “So I thought of asking Nagisa and Rin to come too.” 

That has his attention. Haru feels irritation simmer in his chest. 

It isn’t that he doesn’t like Nagisa and Rin. He has reluctantly accepted that they are his friends now, no matter how annoyingly loud they are and how exhausted he feels just spending time with them, but it feels like a lifetime since it’s just him and Makoto. He misses the comfortable silence and the ease between them when they’re doing nothing but sharing the same space.

This is supposed to be their thing, going to the summer festival every year, just the two of them, no one else, not even the twins had ever joined them. He had been looking forward to tonight.

He glares at Makoto. He’d thought Makoto had felt the same.

Makoto pauses, noticing Haru’s sudden gloom. He flinches when he realises he’s at the receiving end of the patented Nanase Haruka Glare, his mouth already forming the question before his face freezes. He seems to have noticed his error. 

Haru glares harder.

But then laughter fills up the silence between them and Haru’s sharp glare wavers, startled at Makoto’s sudden outburst. It’s a happy sound, carefree, and the longer Makoto laughs, the harder it is for Haru to hold on to his anger.

When he finally composes himself, Makoto is smiling at him indulgently. “Don’t worry, Haru-chan,” he says, voice overly sweet. Haru huffs at the nickname but Makoto just gives him a knowing look before adding, “I kind of wanted to go with just you.”

Haru feels his face heat up and quickly looks to the side, hiding his own pleased smile.

“Good.”

  


*

  


“Come on, Haru.” 

Makoto has been a jittery mess the moment they checked into the hotel; he carelessly chucked his bag onto one of the beds and has been giving Haru impatient looks as he takes his time sorting through his things. 

“Hurry, hurry, hurry.”

Haru feels his lips twitch. It’s a sight to behold; a fourteen year old Makoto who’s already as tall as a high schooler, bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes wide with uncontained excitement. He wonders what the girls at school would feel if they see him like this. They’d probably call him cute. Haru snorts at the thought.

He lets out an exasperated sigh before giving Makoto his full attention, and Makoto immediately beams at him before grabbing his hand and dragging him out of their shared hotel room.

It’s not uncommon, Makoto dragging him around, and Haru’s only slightly annoyed, but only because he doesn’t know what the other is trying to rope him into this time. He _could_ just ask, but Makoto has obviously planned this surprise, he’s probably not going to get a straight answer out of him.

It starts to get really annoying when Makoto decides to cover his eyes with his hands and walk him through the rest of the way, not paying any heed to his protests, protests that die down the moment he catches a whiff of chlorinated water. He stops short.

“Makoto…” 

“Mum made sure to book a hotel with an indoor pool,” Makoto says casually. He starts rummaging through his bag that Haru hadn’t noticed he’d brought along. “We still have until tomorrow before we go and visit your parents, so I asked mum and dad if they could take the twins somewhere.” He smiles as he takes out Haru’s swimsuit, and says proudly, “So we have the pool all to ourselves.”

Haru needs to say something, a thank you, at least, but his brain is so muddled with too many emotions that he can’t really form a coherent reply. He snaps out of it when Makoto wiggles his swimsuit in front of his face, looking at him expectantly.

Haru wastes no time changing, then promptly jumping into the pool. If he could breathe underwater, he would have sighed in relief. He stays under, letting the familiar feel of water envelop him, welcoming him like an old friend, before he surfaces and starts his stroke.

It’s been almost a year since he quit swim club, almost a year since Iwatobi SC closed down, almost a year since he last swam in a pool, and he’s missed it all.

There’s a distant splash, of someone diving into the pool, and soon Haru can feel Makoto’s familiar presence, sharing the water with him. He’s missed this too, Haru realises. 

They swim next to each other, matching each other’s pace, swimming like they used to when they were kids, and at some point they were both smiling too hard that they start getting water up their noses, they had to flip onto their backs and just float aimlessly, side by side.

Haru peeks over at Makoto, who’s humming happily to himself, and feels an ache in his chest. He doesn’t have the words to fully convey how thankful he is to have Makoto around, sticking to his side even when he’s been nothing but difficult, unconsciously pushing him away, dragging him out of the house whenever he’s being an exceptional recluse. He doesn’t think Makoto realises how important he is to him, how much he needs him, maybe even more than Makoto needs him.

“Makoto…” is how he decides to start, like many times before. When he gets a hum in reply, he swallows around the lump in his throat and breathes out an inadequate, “I’m sorry.”

Makoto doesn’t say anything at first, there’s a faraway look on his face as he stares listlessly at the ceiling before he lets out a long sigh. “You know,” he starts, a sad smile on his face, “I worry about you a lot, Haru.”

Haru tries not to feel hurt by that, but he flinches slightly in surprise when Makoto suddenly grabs his hand. They stand there in the middle of the pool, staring into each other’s eyes.

“Sometimes…” Makoto swallows, hesitating before he continues in a self-deprecating tone, “I feel like you don’t even want me around.” His voice is shaky when he adds, “Sometimes I wonder if I’m annoying you.”

And Haru wants to wipe that sad look off Makoto’s face, because Makoto has gotten everything completely wrong.

“But I don’t care,” he continues, voice taking on a stronger, firmer tone. “You’re my best friend, Haru.” His face melts into that familiar gentle smile, and he squeezes his hand. “So I’m not gonna apologize.”

Makoto never fails to catch him off guard with his earnest, honest feelings, so Haru doesn’t bother hiding the catch in his breath, or the way his lips quiver the slightest bit before he bites on them. He’s only slightly embarrassed with how shaky his voice is when he says, “You’re my best friend too.”

Makoto laughs, delighted. “I know, Haru-chan.” And he laughs even harder when Haru doesn’t reprimand him, shoving him lightly by the shoulder instead, his cheeks tinted pink.

  


*

  


Haru watches the chaos that is Tachibana Makoto, running around his apartment, picking up stray objects and stuffing them hastily into his bag, trying to make it in time to catch the last train.

“You know,” Haru says, tone bored. “You can just stay over.” 

It’s perfectly reasonable, Haru thinks; Makoto has most of his stuff here in his apartment as he spends more nights here than at his own apartment, not used to living alone, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

“I have an early day tomorrow, Haru. You know that,” Makoto replies, distracted, trying to find his other sock.

Haru knows that. He also knows that Makoto is wasting his time glancing at his watch every five seconds when they both know that the last train has already taken off two minutes ago. Makoto, however, is ever the optimist.

Haru rolls his eyes. None of this would have been a problem in the first place if they had just lived together.

Makoto suddenly freezes from pulling on his socks. Haru wonders what it is, this time, that he’s suddenly remembered in his panicked state, and is about to ask him, when he realises he had said that last bit out loud.

Haru hates how he can hear his own heartbeat thumping too hard and too loud against his chest. Why is he even nervous, Makoto’s not going to reject him.

Although, Haru realises that maybe he should have taken more consideration into this instead of blurting it out like that. In his defence, he _had_ planned it out, vaguely. All he knows is that he was supposed to ply Makoto with delicious mackerel and then ask him to move in together. He curses inwardly when he remembers tonight’s dinner, which was definitely _not_ mackerel.

“Did you just –” Makoto squeaks, and Haru snaps his head in attention. Makoto clears his throat before trying again. “Are you... asking me to move in with you?” His voice is shrill with disbelief.

“…Only if you want to,” he mumbles, suddenly self-conscious with the way Makoto is staring wide eyed at him. Is it really such a surprise to him? Had he not think that they would inevitably live together at one point in their life?

Makoto crawls over to him, and Haru wills himself to stay put, don’t move, don’t squirm. “Haru,” he coos, “Haru, are you seriously asking me to move in with you?”

The way he sounds so hopeful and happy eases Haru’s own heart back into its steady beat. 

He nods.

“Really?”

Haru frowns. How many times is he going to ask the same thing? Glancing up, he sees the playful glint in Makoto’s eyes, and quickly cuts his gaze to the side with an annoyed huff.

“I take it back,” he replies tartly.

A huge smile breaks onto Makoto’s face before he wraps his arms around Haru, pulling him flush against his chest and burying his face in the crook of Haru’s neck. “Haru,” he sighs, happily.

“You’re heavy,” Haru grumbles, trying futilely to break free. He gives up when Makoto only squeezes tighter, and leans back against him instead.

They stay like that for a while. Haru’s too comfortable to move or speak, but then he remembers their halted conversation.

“You don’t have to move in here,” he says, tilting his head in a way that forces Makoto to dislodge from his perch on his neck and make eye contact with him. “We can find another place.”

It doesn’t really matter, as long as they have a place that’s theirs. 

Makoto hums in thought before a shy smile adorns his face as he looks at Haru fondly. “But I like it here.”

Haru smiles. “I know.” 

He nudges Makoto with his nose, feeling short bursts of breath fanning over his face as Makoto lets out a giddy laugh before leaning in and kissing him chastely. Haru presses back with a pleased hum.

  


*

  


The afternoon sun filters in through the shoji doors that are kept closed. Haru lies on his back, too tired and too hot to do anything; listening to the thrum of the air conditioner as it blows cold air into the room, warding off the summer heat. The rustle of a page turning accompanies the thrumming, and Haru tilts his head back to gaze at an upside down Makoto. 

Makoto is lying on his stomach, his ankles crossed and in the air, eyes flitting back and forth over the pages of a cooking magazine. He lets out a dreamy sigh that sounds a lot like ‘chocolate pudding.’

Haru crawls over to Makoto, peeking at the page that the other boy is currently drooling over to see a picture of a very attractive looking pudding. However, a quick scan of the recipes has him grimacing.

“Too sweet.”

Tapping at a paragraph, Makoto coaxes him with a hopeful, “Says here you can use dark chocolate instead.”

It really does say that, Haru notes. It’s also quite easy to make, and he has almost all of the ingredients, except for heavy cream and dark chocolate.

Makoto is trying to look nonchalant as he turns to another page. Haru lets out a defeated sigh, turning the page back to the chocolate pudding. He’s never been good at denying Makoto anything, especially when he rarely asks for it so blatantly.

“I haven’t finished reading,” Haru grumbles, earning a light chuckle from the other.

“Do you have everything you need?”

Haru tries not to feel too embarrassed at having been read so thoroughly and so easily. He shakes his head. “We need to go and buy some stuff.”

Makoto chirps out a happy, “Okay,” swinging his feet back and forth in the air like a child.

  


*

  


When Makoto blushes, it starts from the apples of his cheeks, and then it spreads to the tips of his ears before it spreads down his neck. It’s fascinating to watch and Haru never tires of it. He thrives for embarrassed and flustered Makoto.

So Haru says it again, just to rile him up even further. This time, whispering it softly against Makoto’s lips, making sure his breath caresses them. He feels his heart thumping in delight at the way Makoto’s breath hitches at his words.

  


_“I love you.”_

  


*

  


“Do you think you’ll ever come back to Iwatobi?”

Frankly, Haru has never given it much thought. He’d always believed that he will one day swim in the Olympics and other renowned tournaments, maybe bringing back a gold medal or two, but he doesn’t think he’ll be swimming professionally for the rest of his life. Whatever it is, though, Haru had always wanted to come back to Iwatobi eventually, because that’s where he’d rather spend his life, next to the ocean.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “definitely.”

Makoto hums, a soft smile on his face. “Me too.”

Haru hadn’t thought about that either. He had thought that Makoto would probably want to settle down in Tokyo, find a job here once he’s graduated. But him wanting to come back to Iwatobi isn’t really a big surprise either.

Makoto has his arms crossed behind his head, a contemplative look on his face as he continues Haru’s line of thought, “I’ve always thought I’d stay here.” He huffs a quiet laugh, then. “You know… big city, many opportunities and all that.”

Haru watches Makoto quietly, not wanting to break the other’s recounting of his future plans. 

“But it’s our last year here,” a derisive tone to his voice as he says this, not quite believing how quick time passes. “And all I can think of doing after graduating is going back home.”

“City life too much for you?” Haru teases.

Makoto responds with an exasperated laugh. Silence descends over them as they lie on their bed, side by side, staring at the miniature galaxy on their ceiling.

The sheets rustle and Haru can feel the mattress shift as Makoto moves to lie on his side, facing him, so Haru does the same. Makoto is searching his eyes for something and Haru lets him, waits for him to find whatever he’s looking for and to voice out whatever has him hesitating.

“Do you think –” Makoto starts, stopping himself to swallow down the question. Haru wiggles closer, staring into troubled green eyes, and whispers, “What is it?” 

Makoto lets out a shaky breath. He runs his fingers across Haru’s cheek as he asks in one breath, “Do you think we’d still be together?”

After everything: graduation, the Olympics, after retirement, after everything else. Will they still be together after everything else that will happen in the future, is what Makoto is trying to ask.

He’s heard this question before, with different wording and in a slightly dishevelled state than the now, but the same sentiment nonetheless. And after everything, Haru thinks Makoto should stop worrying, but one step at a time.

Haru might be unsure about a lot of things in his life, and he’s still wary of the many changes that has been and are still happening, but one thing he’s always been sure of, is that they will always be together, no matter what. 

He answers, “Obviously,” in a matter of fact tone and feels warmth bubbling up in his chest at having to say it out loud. It feels good.

It’s also enough to wipe off that troubled look, replacing it with Makoto’s trademark smile instead, so wide it might split his face in two, his entire face lighting up like a beacon.

Makoto giggles; the sound giddy and infectious, Haru has to bite his lip to refrain himself. He brings their foreheads together, sighing at the contact and replies softly, happily, “Obviously.”

  


  



End file.
